Disclaimer:
Fruits Basket is the property of Takaya Natsuki, her publishers and
distributors. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being
made save that of profit.

Spoilers:
Some spoilers for later Furuba chapters

Time,
it seemed, was always so much sweeter when it was stolen. Not that
that was a good excuse to skip class again, but Uotani Arisa took
what she could get.

She
probably wasn't missing much. They'd just had a test the day
before and the teacher wouldn't be so sadistic as to give them a
pop-quiz the morning after. And it wasn't like the subject was
important—she doubted that Classical Japanese was something she'd
need once she graduated. Arisa was all about practicality.

She'd
slipped off to one of her favorite spots, a rooftop that none of the
teachers seemed to want to check. Probably because you had to climb
a ladder to get there, she thought. It wasn't worth their trouble
to hunt her down.

That
thought reminded her of something else, and she braced herself for
the inevitable wave of grief. It didn't seem that he
thought she was worth the trouble to hunt down, either. And that
hurt, more than she could imagine anything hurting her.

She'd
really made a fool of herself the other day, during the play,
shouting out for him like that in front of God and Everybody. It had
come out of nowhere and she was as surprised as anyone else when it
had happened. It could have been that she was taking her anger out
on Kyon again, she thought wryly. He was so much fun to rile up, and
when he came out in costume that night, it hit her just how similar
he looked to Kureno, and it all went downhill from there.

Firmly
commanding herself not to start tearing up again (and privately
damning the man who could move her enough to do something so stupid),
she walked around the perimeter of the roof. It had rained two
nights before, so it wasn't as dusty as it usually was.

A
noise startled her, and she turned quickly. If it was a teacher, she
would be so screwed… there wasn't a way off the roof except to
climb down the ladder, unless she cared to jump a couple of stories.
Arisa wasn't up to those odds.

A
shock of very white, somewhat spiky hair came peeking over the edge
of the roof, and she breathed a sigh of relief. That was no teacher.
It was one of the younger Souma kids, the taller one who didn't
dress like a girl.

He
was almost up the ladder completely before he noticed her. Unlike
the little blonde kid who was always chattering, this guy usually
didn't have a lot to say. He was once again bending the dress code
to the breaking point, his uniform shirt unbuttoned to reveal a black
muscle-tee underneath, brightened by the glitter of some gold chains,
his pants baggier than normal and where on earth did he find those
boots?

"Hey,"
he said.

"Hey."

"Skipping
out?"

"Yeah.
You?"

"Yeah."
He walked across the roof over to where she was standing and looked
out over the campus. "I like the view here."

"Me,
too. Where'd you get those boots?"

He
blinked. "They were a gift."

"They're
really nice."

"Yeah.
She's got a good eye."

Arisa
wasn't sure who "she" was, but this guy usually spoke
cryptically, so she didn't worry about it.

"Yuki
doing okay? Haven't seen him lately."

"The
Prince? Oh, he's okay. Kyou's being a pain in the ass, but what
else is new?"

"That's
the cat for you." There was a touch of disdain in his voice.

"Cat?"

A
flash of something went across his face. "A…nickname. Family
thing."

It
made sense, she supposed. Come to think of it, Kyon and the Prince
were always hissing names at each other. "Oh, I get it. It's
like the way he's always calling the Prince a rat, right?"

"Yeah,
yeah. They've always fought, like a cat and mouse, so the names
kinda stuck."

She
laughed. "It must be nice, coming from a big family like that."

His
eyes widened in disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

"No!"
She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. Something about
this boy, she didn't know what, always made her want to go into her
gang-stance. "I was an only child, and my Dad was, too. Not much
of a family."

"And
your Mom?" It was almost like he didn't want to say it, but it
came out anyway. His glance was furtive.

"Oh.
Her. Nah, she ran off, back when I was a kid." Arisa gave him a
half-hearted grin. "Had better things to do, I guess."

"Nothing,"
he moved closer to her and considered her for a moment. "I liked
your performance, in the play. You were good."

"Yeah,
right," she snorted. "Just embarrassed myself in front of the
whole school is what I did."

He
shook his head, slowly, the white hair playing against the black as
the wind picked it up. She wondered once again how he had managed to
dye it so perfectly without any blending. Maybe it was
professionally done? The Soumas were rich, after all, everyone knew
that…

"I
think I would have done the same thing, if I'd had the chance, and
if I knew she would listen. Waiting is the worst thing, especially
when you don't know what you're waiting for. It just makes me
crazy. And when you got up there and shouted that, I was like…yeah!
Me, too!" A smile played across his lips and his eyes met hers, a
little shyly. "I wish I could have done that."

"It
was stupid."

"It
was perfect. Whoever that guy is, I hope he heard you."

It
was just a small thing, but the day suddenly seemed a little
brighter, a little better. Oh, I've got it bad, she thought,
grasping at straws like this. But she somehow didn't care.

To
be continued

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